Chapter 27
“What is this?”
Dominic quietly exhaled as he reentered his study, sitting down as Cassian began to pace about on his favorite rug.
The viscount’s motions were harsh and quick but controlled. Cassian had never looked so angry. So fearful. This couldn’t be blamed. He hadn’t known. How Cassian managed to avoid such conversations, Dominic couldn’t imagine. Was Cassian more a recluse than he knew?
A pointless question because they had bigger problems now, big enough that couldn’t be ignored.
Cassian cursed and slapped the table, pausing. “Someone knows.”
“Someone knows something,” Dominic corrected him.
Also not helpful, but more than nothing. As far as I can tell, this isn’t a genuine threat. Only a danger to curb.
“Did you write this?” The viscount’s bottom lip curled, his gaze filled with distrust. Dark green eyes shined even in the shadows in which he stood. Straight shoulders now hunched over the desk. For all he had done to be careful, his plans were falling apart.
Dominic raised an eyebrow to let him know that was going too far. He had done more than enough to help Cassian so far. In fact, all he did was help Cassian though the man remained ungrateful and without understanding.
Although he had the decency to flush in embarrassment, the other gentleman offered no apology.
He hastily went on to say, “If people are reading this, they’re going to start making assumptions.
Judgements. You know how gossip moves. I can’t imagine people haven’t started talking about this.
You can’t throw out the possibility of murder in a gossip rag and not expect drama! ”
“It is rather theatrical,” Dominic agreed.
“Are people reading it?”
“Of course they are. I hear more prints are still be made, being purchased,” Dominic added.
What he didn’t add was how he had yet to find the printer.
This galled him, for there were only so many printing presses about London.
No one could give him any information. Or they wouldn’t.
His search for additional proof about the rag and his wife’s involvement was fumbling to a standstill.
The last option would be to talk to her… Bitterness swept over his tongue.
Perhaps some secrets are not meant to stay in the dark.
“It’s going to cause trouble. It already is. I should have made the connection. There’s talk in the House of Lords about limiting journals in town. In controlling what they say.”
Dominic furrowed his brow over the news. “I hadn’t heard.”
“It’s just talk so far, but there are some instrumental characters involved.
Prinny’s been informed as well. I haven’t heard what he thought, but the risks…
We don’t need more laws on top of our other laws, Wycliffe, we need to be effective about those that are already in place,” Cassian added heatedly.
He’d said this countless times on the floor before from what Dominic recalled.
“This is dangerous. Reckless, too! It’s one thing to make a law about writing, but if enough people are talking… someone will find out about my uncle.”
“It would be supposition,” Dominic volunteered mildly.
That offered no reassurance apparently as Cassian tossed him a dark look.
After shaking his head, Cassian ran his hands through his dark hair.
“Blast it. Nothing like this should have become public. The insinuation that peers of the realm could be contributors or victims to quiet and unofficial trades is… Is… It can’t be done. ”
“And yet it is right there.”
“It is.”
Both gentlemen looked down as Cassian pulled out the crumped gossip rag from his pocket and tossed it onto Dominic’s desk. It sat lonely but prominent on the desk, waiting for them to do something.
“This marriage was to ensure everything would be quiet,” the viscount said quietly after a minute.
He slowly lifted his gaze to meet Dominic’s.
“We are the only living souls who know about it. I’ve already checked and double-checked that no one else saw anything.
It wasn’t me, so it had to have been you. ”
“How could you know no one else saw?” Dominic asked.
Cassian ignored his question. “What have you said? Who have you talked to? I solved a problem for you and this is how you repay me?”
Tightening his jaw, he rose to his feet. The accusation was unfair, and he was already giving Cassian more than enough leeway. Having come here to sort out the problem, he wasn’t going to take on the blame.
“I will ignore your blame,” Dominic forced himself to say calmly, “Because I have kept my word all this time. I haven’t talked to anyone about that night. Not a single word has left this room.”
But the viscount wouldn’t accept it, shaking his head. “It’s not possible. I didn’t even write anything down. Why would I? I’m the one who could lose his head! I have a family to take care of, Wycliffe, I wouldn’t do it. If you begrudge me the match––”
“I don’t, the match is a fair one and your sister is a diamond of a duchess.”
“Then why would you do this?” Cassian demanded, pushing further.
But Dominic wouldn’t break. “I have kept my word to you, Ashbourne, and I will not have you call me a liar.”
“This cannot happen! You––”
“Know just enough to put you away,” he pointed out, “but not everything. I have respected your silence, and I have not pulled you forth to stand trial for your crime.” The viscount flinched, and he carried on without pause.
“I will not be blamed for something I didn’t start nor had a hand in.
You will not point the finger at me for a moment longer. You do not control me or my life.”
“I wasn’t… Fine.” Cassian gritted his teeth. “I believe you didn’t write this. Which means I have to find out who did.”
Dominic had been worried about that, and so he had already done another pass through the newspapers over the last day.
Reaching into the drawers of his desk, he pulled out the newspapers from the last day.
“It doesn’t matter who knows what because everyone is talking about it, and everyone has their own ideas.
Some are more… right than others. This isn’t a leak in the wall you can simply close up. ”
“It can’t… I won’t…” Cassian stared at the pages one after another, shocked once again. Why he had yet to read the papers in the last two days, Dominic didn’t know. But it was time the gentleman knew. “How did this even happen? I can’t…”
As the viscount tumbled back into his chair, his strength failing him as the world was slowly toppling over him, Dominic gave him a minute to breathe.
Then he made his position clear. “I am already taking action. I’m redirecting the gossip and putting out my own pieces now. I have no intention of revealing the truth. Because that is not mine to share. It’s yours.”
Cassian jerked his head up. “What?”
Standing, Dominic fixed his cuffs as he had reluctantly come to the conclusion himself.
All their attempts at holding back secrets had done them no good.
Not when it came up against a bold, intelligent lady.
The two of them had been so focused on protecting themselves against the law, they had no reason to guess that their very own Verity might make discoveries all on her own.
She doesn’t even have the truth, she barely has half-truths. But that was enough. If the consequences didn’t promise to be so dire, I’d be thoroughly impressed.
“Tell Verity the truth.”
“Why? What about… why would that change anything? She adored our uncle as much as I did,” Cassian said in a hollow voice.
“Together, Verity and I can halt the gossip. Tell her, or I will.”
It wasn’t a threat but a promise and they both well knew it. What Cassian didn’t know, however, was that this wouldn’t be the end.
Everyone had to know the truth. One way or another.